


Lust and Love

by TeyrianTimelord



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Appearances by Sam and Clint, Dubious Consent, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Multi, Romance, Slash, Steve's Pov, Threesome - F/M/M, i can't write smut, i don't speak russian, natasha's pov, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 18:02:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1559207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeyrianTimelord/pseuds/TeyrianTimelord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky sleeps with Steve and Natasha twice. Once out of lust as the Winter Soldier. Once out of love as a man with something to live for.</p><p>A story about the events that bridge these two happenings, and all the emotional turmoil that follows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lust and Love

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone! So this is the baby that I have spent two weeks working on. It's basically an upcycle of "Home and Whole" and "Deserving." It was WAY outside my comfort zone as dub-con, triggers, and sex in general are pretty far out for me. 
> 
> Also a disclaimer, I don't speak Russian, so I'm sure my translations in part 2 are horrendous. I apologize in advance. 
> 
> Enjoy, and please comment! I put a lot of hard work into this one and would love to hear what you all thought =)

**_Part 1- Lust_ **

 

When Natasha came back to the suite Steve was already asleep on the couch in front of the television, the Wizard of Oz playing muted across the screen. She smiled a little and pulled the blanket at his feet up to his shoulders. The two of them had spent the better part of a week in Berlin chasing down a SHIELD mole who was trying to use tesseract developed weapons to supply a covert Neo-Nazi party and once again burn down the Reichstag. Thankfully, they managed to apprehend him that morning and spend the rest of the afternoon touring post World War Germany. It was emotionally straining on Steve, but he insisted on seeing as many historical sites as possible. However, the Berlin Wall was too much. The symbol of everything that had changed his life and the times he missed on ice filled the capacity for what energy he had left. Natasha sent him back to the hotel while she stayed out to eat and send paperwork back to Fury. She lightly kissed his forehead before heading to the bedroom he had graciously offered up. Even the infamous Black Widow needed sleep.

She quickly slipped out of her suit and into a black satin bathrobe. The soft wrap was a guilty pleasure of hers that Natasha liked to take on as many missions as possible. Nothing made her feel more relaxed than snuggling into the silky fabric, even if it was old and fraying around the sleeves. She pulled the hem over her face and inhaled, taking in the old but comforting smell.

“Vy vsegda nravilos' myagkiye veshchi,” _You always did like soft things._

Natasha reached for the pistol under the nightstand but her hands found only wood. Taking a deep breath, she slowly turned around, fully aware of her own gun being pointed at her head.

“ _Only a few people can catch me off guard,”_ she replied still in Russian.

Though it had been nearly fifteen years, she recognized him instantly. Unlike her, his appearance was still the same as it had been when they met. Steely blue eyes, long brown hair, robotic arm capable of snapping her neck with less energy than it would take to blink. He smirked and looked her over from head to toe.

_“So I’m not the only one? Interesting...”_

He reached out and ran his cold fingers along the collar of her bathrobe, following it down until reaching the tie at her waist. She swallowed uncomfortably. Under any other circumstances, if it was any other person, she would not have been so unsettled, but they had not parted on the kindest of terms. Natasha had never forgotten, and she doubted he did either. He chuckled as he read the thoughts on her face. Now that was something only he could do.

 _“You left without even saying goodbye,”_ he growled. _“I’ve been waiting a long time for the chance to find you for that.”_

Natasha’s breath hitched as he ripped the belt off her robe.

_“I had to run.”_

_“You broke my heart.”_

Keeping the gun angled against her temple, he clamped his hand down on her bare hip and pulled her in so their bodies were touching and his mouth was next to her ear. She shivered at just how familiar it felt. There was a time when that was all she lived for, coming back from a mission and entangling herself in his arms, but things had changed too quickly. He slowly advanced until her back was against the door from the bedroom to where Steve was sleeping. Oh god, Steve!

 _“I can make you pay for it,_ ” he murmured, nipping at the edge of her jaw. _“Or I can make you beg like we used to.”_

“I haven’t begged for fifteen years, and I’m not going to break that streak now,” she hissed in English.

He grinned and glanced down at the doorknob by her leg.

“I wonder if your new pet would beg.”

Natasha quickly shot a right hook to his face. She knew it would make him angry more than cause any actual pain, but she needed to make a point and it at least sent him back a few inches.

“He has nothing to do with this,” she stated harshly.

She moved to kick, but he caught her foot in midair and twisted hard. She bit back a yelp as she landed on her face. A quick flex revealed that her ankle would be useless for the next several days, but that wasn’t her concern. What scared her was the sound of a concerned knock on the door.

“Hey, Nat, are you okay in there?” Steve asked through the wood.

“I’m fine, don’t-“

The metal hand came over her mouth before she could finish. She glanced back and saw the Winter Soldier pull his glasses over his eyes. _Please don’t come in!_ she silently pleaded, but the door creaked open and the half asleep Steve Rogers entered anyway.

“Natasha!”

“Don’t move!” she ordered as she felt herself being hoisted up by her hair.

She was back on her feet, neck trapped in the crook of his elbow. This time, though, the pistol was aimed at Steve, whose palms were out in front of him to show that he was unarmed. Cold laughter echoed around the room.

_“Is it Natasha now? Okay, Natasha, I’ll make you a deal. Do what I ask and I won’t kill him or choose to walk away and I put a bullet in his skull.”_

“What’s he saying?” Steve demanded, eyes visibly scanning the room for anything to use as a weapon.

Natasha felt her throat constrict. She wanted to scream for him to run, to fight, but with the Winter Soldier that would only get him killed. Every worst case scenario running through her head had no resolvable outcome. No other options.  She ignored Steve’s question.

_“Fine. I’m listening.”_

_“Tell him to go sit on the bed. You know what to do from there.”_

Natasha choked. What was more selfish? Letting him die or putting him through hell to live with the aftermath? One day, hopefully long after she was dead and gone, Steve would learn who the Winter Soldier really was, all the Red Room Academy had done, the true weight of the decision she made this night in Berlin. Of all the lives she had destroyed, none of them felt as heavy as the one she was about to topple.

“Steve,” she said, as calm and controlled as she could. “I need you to sit down on the bed take off your shirt.”

“Nat, what-“

“I’m so sorry, please just do it!” she blurted as tears started to well in her eyes.

Tears she fought desperately to keep back. Steve did not look scared or angry, but sad. Pitifully, compassionately, sad for her. For her! He was not an idiot and the wheels had started turning. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, ‘This is on me! This is on my hands! At least put up a fight!’ But he didn’t. He just pulled off his t-shirt and looked into her eyes.

 _“I’m impressed. He’s very well trained. Do you remember any of your training?”_ the Winter Soldier whispered, breath stinging her skin. _“I want him screaming your name loud enough for the whole hotel to hear. Then it’s my turn. Then I want you both screaming my name.”_

He shoved her right onto the bed next to Steve, whose soft gaze had been replaced by a furious glare for their assailant. However, he defensively put an arm around Natasha, still unaware of the full extent of her agreement. She cringed when the Winter Soldier settled beside them, unbuttoning his heavy leather coat.

“I’m so sorry, Steve. I’m so sorry,” she rasped and felt the tears finally leak out.

That’s when she kissed him, gently and tenderly, using every bit of finesse she had ever mastered. He felt fragile, hesitant to return anything more than the innocence of closed lips. This would break him in a way he wasn’t prepared for, but she wasn’t sure if she had the courage to explain. Every time she tried to say something, all that would come out was “I’m so sorry.”

 _“You can do better than that,_ ” he growled.

 _“Da,_ ” she spat back, scowling fiercely, then returning to Steve.

“I…” Deep breath. “I’m sorry for this.”

“I don’t blame you,” he answered, planting a reassuring kiss on her forehead.

She silently wept and her mind went blank. The last surviving bit of her logical brain told her that the trauma dissociation was kicking in, but that was the end of her awareness. All her mind perceived was the heat and the sounds. Her whole body temperature seemed to be rising at a feverish rate, fire burning against the inside of her chest, wrapping her heart in flame and consuming her lungs. She could hear Steve moaning, groaning, her name while the Winter Soldier kept purring commands in her ear. _Faster. Harder. Make him work for it._  

The burning behind her ribs was only getting hotter. Natasha was afraid that if she opened her mouth too much the flames might leap out. Her name was all she heard now. _Natasha! Natasha! Natasha!_ She couldn’t tell if Steve was grabbing her waist or if someone had put burning brands on her sides.

 _“That’s my girl._ ”

The searing heat of Steve’s skin was replaced by the bone chilling cold of the Winter Soldier’s metal hand pulling her away by the back of the neck.

“Don’t touch him!” she howled, but was only met by a harsh mouth attacking her own before being tossed to the floor.

Natasha curled herself into a ball, clutching her face in her hands and sobbing quietly as the sounds came back. Oh god, she was falling apart. She had never been this vulnerable before. Not when the Red Room instructors beat her to a pulp. Not when she saw the Winter Soldier come out of his cryogen freezing for the first time. Not when they fell in love. Not when she met Clint. Not when he was captured and tortured in Budapest. Not when she had to fight him on the helicarrier over New York. But this was new. New and twisted.

“Please, James, please,” she begged into the carpet. “Don’t touch him.”

There was no more heat, but the sounds were still alive. She screwed her eyes shut, trying desperately to drown out the two men on her bed. She shouted it over and over again, in English, in Russian, in French, in Latin. “Don’t touch him!” If she could, Natasha would have dug her way into the floor and stayed there until it was all over, but the world was not that kind. A whimper slipped without her permission when she was pulled back into the fray, back into the fire. She couldn’t tell who was where or touching what; it all burned. On one side she felt flesh and another metal. Sometimes pleasure sometimes pain. It was a torrent of overwhelming emotion and muted sensation choking her from all directions, and Natasha would have carved out her own heart to make it stop.

It finally did. Natasha came down from the hellish surge to find herself lying on Steve’s bare chest with the Winter Soldier’s human arm resting on her hip, face nestled in her hair with his glasses still concealing most of his feature. They seemed to somehow both be asleep. She blinked several times, scared that if she moved even a fraction of an inch she would be shoved back into that nightmare of heat and sound. But her logic and reason was almost wholly returned, so she swallowed her fear and slowly sat up to assess their situation. However, she quickly felt a hand grasp her wrist and a soft kiss trail over her fingers. Natasha nearly screamed again when she looked down to see who it was.

“You were magnificent,” he said as casually as if they were back in the Red Room stealing a night to themselves. “Your pet needs more work, though.”

No longer paralyzed, she yanked her hand back.

“You’re despicable even for _them_ ,” she spat, sliding out of bed as lithely as she could as to not disturb Steve.

He propped himself up by his prosthetic arm with that same half-smug-half-entertained grin he used to put on when she was annoyed. As if nothing had happened.

“If it makes you feel any better, I put some high dosage Rohypnol in your fridge last night. He’ll wake up in a few hours and won’t remember a thing.

“In the United States today that’s referred to as a date rape drug,” she snarled. “You wanted to hurt me, James? Well congratulations, you succeeded, now get the hell out before I cut off your other arm.”

He stood up grabbed the clothes he had shed to the floor, taking an unnecessary amount of time to put them back on and throw satisfied looks over his shoulder. Natasha crossed her arms to hide the fury strong enough to shake her hands. One of the few men in the world she could not beat in a fight and he had to be the man she left alone in a Soviet institution without so much as a goodbye kiss. When he was finally dressed she shot him a dangerously cold glare.

“If you ever get near him again, I will find a way to kill you,” she warned.

He cocked an eyebrow.

“It’s obvious you aren’t his girl, so what makes him so special, Natalia?” he inquired, circling her like a tiger. “Why do we scare you so much?”

She kept her poker face despite the shivers running down her spine. Steve Rogers could never know that the Winter Soldier was James Barnes, and James Barnes could never know that his old love’s blonde stranger was Steve Rogers. Her façade had to last.

“That’s none of your concern. You got what you came here for, so leave, _pryamo seychas_!”

She blinked and he was gone. No parting smirk, no threat on her life, no promise to return for Steve. He was just gone. Natasha sighed, put on what was left of her old robe, and settled back into the bed next to Steve who was still sleeping soundly. Much to her relief, his face was serene in the deep calm of sleep. She sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. That was the thing about being Black Widow, the ones she loved most were bound to get a bite. Sometimes the bite kills and sometimes they can be saved in time. She prayed to whatever god would listen for Steve to be saved in time.

 

**_Part 2- Love_ **

 

“Tasha, phone’s for you,” Clint called from the kitchen.

Natasha took out her headphones and hopped off the treadmill to catch the phone he tossed into her hands. They had been undercover in a Los Angeles apartment as newlyweds for nearly three months without contact from Fury or anyone else. Since the fall of SHIELD, she had taken time to recover from years of intensity and dedication, but a skill set was a skill set and she and Clint were practically born partners, so little more than a year later, it was back to the field. Work had been slow, but Fury still had Hydra insiders and information that needed to be eliminated. However, he hadn’t even checked in on them since the mission started. She eyed the phone, giving Clint an inquisitive look.

“It’s Cap.”

“Hey, Rogers,” she greeted. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi, Nat,” came the crackling response. “I know you’re on a mission, but is there any way you can be in Brooklyn by tonight? I need you here as soon as possible.”

She looked at her watch. Feasible if Clint could get access to the right jet.

“What’s going on back there, Steve?”

“It’s Bucky… I found him last week and…” He paused for so long that she was afraid the signal had dropped before he finally continued. “He’s remembering, fast. For the most part I can handle him but he keeps having these episodes of going off in Russian and apologizing for something and demanding to see you.”

Natasha’s face must have drained of all its color because Clint was leaping over the countertop to let her lean on his shoulder. It was a mutual ritual they shared whenever the other seemed to be facing more pressure than they could handle alone. Usually she was the one providing the stability. She had to swallow several time to soften her suddenly dry throat.

“I’ll be there in five hours,” she said curtly before promptly throwing the phone back on the counter.

“Clint, I need you to get me to New York,” she breathed, putting an arm around his shoulder to stabilize herself. “Cap and I are in some pretty deep shit and I need to get some of it sorted out.”

He didn’t ask questions, he didn’t prod for answers, he just made a few calls and had a jet ready in less than half an hour. He promised that he could finish their mission alone and to Skype her the moment it was taken care of. In the utter chaos that was her life, Natasha was truly grateful for her Hawkeye. She would have gone insane a long time ago without him, and he was once again giving her the foundation she needed to stand upright. If only she could take him with her…

In a matter of hours Natasha was standing at the door to an apartment on the second floor of a condemned building complex in the Brooklyn suburbs. It was old, easily built in the 1930’s, and surrounded by chain link indicating that the city had condemned it for safety reasons. No doubt it was Steve’s childhood home and he had brought Bucky here in an attempt to trigger any accessible memories. She stopped her hand before bringing it to knock on the door. A knot of guilt had settled in her stomach. Though she had to face him, Steve now knew that she had spent years lying to him about his best friend, and that she couldn’t fight hard enough to stop him. Before she put her knuckles to the splintered wood, Sam opened the door just enough to peak out. She wasn’t expecting him to have made it this far, but if there was anyone who knew about treating PTSD, it was Falcon.

“You got here at uh… an interesting time,” he whispered, quietly letting her in to the front room. “About an hour ago he went into a fit and now he won’t say anything but ‘prosti menya.’ Does that mean anything to you?”

_Forgive me._

She nodded, and he pointed to a closed door at the end of the hall. She had to take a moment to steady herself. Natalia Romanova had been in love with the Winter Soldier, not Bucky. Sure, she saw his file, but Natasha had no idea what to expect of him or what he expected of her. For all she knew she was a nightmare of his days of torture and he just wanted to finally snap her neck. Who would stop him? Sam? Steve? No, no one, but she had to face him anyway. For Steve. For James.

When she cautiously walked in the bedroom, she had not been expecting to see Bucky curled in a ball in the corner, clothed in tattered pajamas and hair all in disarray. She had not been expecting the red eyes, the wet cheeks, or the drooping lips murmuring indeterminable words. What she was not surprised to see was Steve right next to him, wrapping his best friend in his arms and whispering sweet words of encouragement. Though it took them a moment, they both looked up at her. Steve’s gaze full of thanks and Bucky’s full of fear.

“Nat, thanks for-“

“ _Pozhaluysta, prosti menya!_ ” Bucky interrupted, breaking away from Steve and practically throwing himself at her feet. “ _Please, forgive me! Please, I am so sorry! Please, please, please…”_

He broke off the pleading to fight back a sob. Natasha was not blind to the irony of the situation, and how reversed their roles had become from that night almost three years ago. Still, she had nothing but pity. This was not the man who trained her. This was not the man who loved her. This was the man who Steve would have died for and the man losing his mind trying to be the same person who had died a hero. He owed her nothing.

“ _Hush,_ ” she said softly as she sank to her knees and gently took his face in her hands. “ _You’re safe now. We’re here. You’re safe now._ ”

Natasha folded him in her arms, rocking slowly and letting him bury his face in her shoulder. She looked over at Steve, whose eyes were shining with gratefulness, grace, and exhaustion. A week he had been going through this almost entirely alone. Sure, Sam was there, but how much of the weight could he carry? She guessed not enough to lighten the load. When Clint had been Loki’s puppet, he came through in a matter of hours. Sure, they were some of the hardest hours of her life, but nonetheless, she had the faintest idea of a comparison for Steve’s situation. She cringed at the prospect, and bit her lip when she saw that sad smile ghost away to reveal a pallor of utterly spent fatigue. Though he would never admit it to Bucky, or maybe even to himself, he desperately needed someone to help them both through.

“Call Clint back,” she said. “Tell him I won’t be home for a while.”

**_Love_ **

Steve grimaced as he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the cracked hall mirror. His hair was messy, outgrown, and unwashed. The skin under his eyes was the color of his SHIELD issued uniform. That five o’clock shadow he had procrastinated to shave was turning into a ten o’clock storm cloud. Ever since he was a little boy, he like to keep himself militantly orderly and clean, but militant was the last thing on his mind. He blinked several times and continued on to the kitchen to brew the third pot of coffee that day.

Steve, Sam, Natasha, and Bucky had been holed up in his old apartment for more than two weeks now and Bucky was still far from stable. He would still wake up several times a night screaming from night terrors. Sometimes Steve could simply hold his hand and he would fall back to sleep, but others Natasha would have to stay up for hours singing and murmuring in Russian just to get him to calm down. Those nights were the worst for Steve, when his efforts weren’t enough. It made him feel useless and helpless, like he was watching Bucky fall screaming all over again. Those nights were the ones he never went back to sleep.

Sam and Natasha was handling the whole situation with an unexpected, almost saintly, amount of grace. Sam went on grocery runs while Tasha took care of the moments Steve couldn’t handle. She was surprisingly levelheaded despite the way Bucky acted around her. Unlike with Steve and Sam, during the days when he was cognizant he was skittish with her, as if he was worried something he said might set her off, sometimes using Steve as a shield to keep her away. She simply pretended not to notice and spent a majority of her time working on a laptop Clint had shipped. However, Nat was the most effective calming agent for Bucky’s fits. Neither of them ever said why.

“How are you holding up?”

Steve turned to see Natasha standing in the doorway to the kitchen, sipping on a mug of tea. Though her hair was impeccably done as always, the shadows under her eyes were almost as dark as his.

“I’m just tired. It’s been a long month…”

He took a long swig of black coffee to muster his courage. Now was as good a time as ever.

“Natasha, what do you and Bucky talk about when he’s having a meltdown?”

She let out a sharp breath between her teeth and gestured to the decrepit couch in the next room over.

“Sit down, Steve.”

He did as she said without question, sitting with his hands in his lap like he was back in grade school. She remained standing, wiping her palms on her sweatpants and sweeping her gaze back and forth. She resembled a cornered animal looking for an escape route, but didn’t run. Nat took a deep breath.

“Of all the things James- I mean, Bucky- has ever done, there is one particular instance that gives him the most amount of guilt. I’m the only one he can talk to about it because I’m the only other person who remembers. A few years ago he… he hurt someone he loves very much. However, he can’t tell them how much pain it causes him because they don’t remember. He is afraid that if he brings it up there will be too much of a gap between them to ever really be friends again. So he begs for forgiveness from the only person he can. And he seems to think that person is me.”

Steve ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

“Don’t be coy, Tasha. Whatever he’s going through, I should be there for him. Whatever he did, I can handle it!”

She visibly shivered through her sweater and wiped her hands again. Despite his façade of confidence, this worried him. She was one of the best damn agents SHIELD ever had. As Fury had said, “Romanoff is comfortable with everything.” For something to disturb her was frightening.

“I don’t think you want to know, Rogers,” she whispered, avoiding his gaze.

He suddenly grabbed both her hands, a bit harder than he intended to. She shot her eyes up with surprise. It wasn’t his style to be this aggressive, but between Bucky’s recovery at stake and the extreme lack of sleep that would have driven an average man insane, Steve was not in the mood to play games.

“Tell me,” he ordered.

Though she kept her jaw tight and teeth clenched, she finally murmured, “When we were in Berlin he coerced you into sleeping with us. Then drugged your food so you wouldn’t remember it. He was still the Winter Soldier and trying to get revenge for me leaving the Red Room Academy. Bucky didn’t remember you and thought you were just another one of my SHIELD partners. I… I thought it would be best if you never knew. I couldn’t bring myself to hurt you, and neither can Bucky.”

Steve clutched her hands tighter. He was afraid that if he let go they would be shaking too much to control. Yes, he remembered Berlin. They took down a mole, toured the city, then he went to bed and woke up with a massive migraine. That was it. That was all he could recollect.

“What… what about you?” he managed to say over his dry tongue. “Are you… are you okay?”

She pursed her lips together in a tight line of pink that was quickly fading to white.

“I came to terms with my end of it. Not yours, though. Never got over that.”

Steve’s head was reeling. No, that couldn’t be right. It was impossible. He remembered that night! He wanted to watch something familiar so he put on Wizard of Oz. He ate some old pasta from the Italian restaurant he and Tasha visited for lunch one day. Then he fell asleep and didn’t wake up until late the next day. That was it! That was it! Nothing else! But of all the things Natasha would lie to him about… even she wasn’t that frozen.

He was about to say something else when she suddenly looked over his shoulder.

“ _Voydite, dorogoy_. _Eto_ _khorosho,”_ she called softly, as if to a child.

He turned around to see Bucky leaning against the wall behind them, arms crossed tightly and face shyly obscured with loose hair. His gaze met Steve’s for a second, but then flitted anxiously to Natasha.

“ _Vy skazali yemu._ ”

He sounded frightened, sad, and a bit angry all at the same time. Nat nodded.

“ _On ne pomnit._ ”

Steve lightly nudged her leg. It was great for them to have a language bond and sense of security, but of all the times to not know what they were saying to one another, this was the one he was becoming least comfortable with.

“Hey, Buck,” he said as kindly as possible, doing his best to throw away what Natasha had just told him. “Did you sleep well?”

“I never sleep well,” he grumbled and looked as if he was trying to fold himself into the wall.

Steve cleared his throat to buy time.

“So… do you want to talk at all?”

He suddenly shot to Natasha’s side, grabbing her arm and furiously whispering something in her ear. Steve could not help but notice the skin on her arm turning a bright pink under the steel grip and yet she made no effort to pull away, only nodded at what he had to say. She finally mouthed ‘okay’ before turning her attention to Steve.

“We think you have the right to ask questions and we’ll answer as honestly as possible,” she said with obviously forced composure.

Steve bit his lip and looked back and forth between his two friends. Natasha was shifting in her seat, but smiling reassuringly. Bucky, however, was still avoiding even looking at him directly. His father used to tell them both “don’t ask questions when you don’t want the answers,” and this seemed to be one of those times. He didn’t remember, and he didn’t want to remember. Hell, two years ago he wouldn’t have even believed Natasha! But this wasn’t really about him, at least, he didn’t want it to be. It was about giving Bucky all the closure he needed.

“Actually, I just have one,” he finally brought himself to say. “Was…uh… was I any good?”

He nearly jumped into the ceiling when Natasha suddenly started laughing. Laughing and crying at the same time, her chest heaving and face streaming with hot, red tears. Steve stared on in shock as she doubled over, her hair obscuring her face from view. Bucky looked equally surprised with his jaw hanging slack at her outburst. It was hard to tell if it was the laughter driving her to tears or if she was laughing to hide uncontrollable sobbing. This only made Steve feel even more awkward. So much for trying to relieve the tension…

“You are a piece of work, Rogers,” she chuckled, taking in a shallow breath and using her sleeve to dry her cheeks.

“What the hell kind of question is that?” Bucky muttered bitterly.

She elbowed him in the ribs, causing him to shoot her an annoyed glare.

“Cut him some slack, James, he’s trying to make you feel better,” she reprimanded.

Steve flinched when she took both their hands and joined them together. She was right, and the last thing he wanted was to make him feel even worse. He was almost afraid that Nat may have been doing just that, but for the first time that day, they made eye contact. The visual manifestation of Bucky’s exhaustion gave Steve’s a run for his money. Even darker circles, even more sagging skin, and what appeared to be a sheer finality for the world. However, there was also the slightest, almost undetectable, ghost of a smile.

“You weren’t terrible.”

Nat collapsed back into hysterics and Steve felt the tips of his ears start to burn. Though the comment was critical and gritty, he tightened his grip on his hand in an unmistakable gesture of comfort. Steve lightly squeezed back. It was nice to once again have something warm between them. Though there was still more emotional distance then he would have preferred, it was a good start. A very good start.

Everyone looked up at the sound of Sam walking through the front door.

“Uh… did I miss something?”

**_Love_ **

“Hey, Nat, do you want to go get some-“

Steve stopped in his tracks and immediately turned away as Natasha opened the bedroom door. She was wearing nothing but a lacey bra and a thin thong while drying her hair with a small towel. Though his eyes were averted, he could still hear her laughing.

“At ease, soldier. When four people live together, you’re going to see a girl in her underwear from time to time,” she explained between chuckles before throwing the damp towel back into the bathroom.

“Well excuse me for having been raised in the 1930’s by a Christian mother,” he defended.

Six months had passed since he first called her for help, and life was starting to simmer down to about as normal as he could have ever imagined. Due to the lack of practical amenities, not to mention space, at Steve’s old apartment, Sam managed to convince everyone to move into his house back in Washington DC. It was a hard transition for Steve and Bucky to leave the familiar environment they had grown up in to the modern city where both almost died, but Bucky was recuperating at an incredible rate. The hellish night terrors were gradually replaced by sound sleeps, adventures out in public no longer threw him into panic attacks, and most importantly, he smiled and he laughed. That was what Steve had honestly missed the most. Though he still suffered periods of anxiety, Sam concluded that Bucky had reached a level that was normal for most veterans with PTSD and convinced him to start attending his rebooted seminars at the VA. Natasha remained in contact with SHIELD to do remote work over her computer while Steve made getting Bucky “caught up” his biggest priority. Almost every day they were on a new outing or watching new movies, working together to regain what they had missed. After what seemed like an eternity, Steve, Bucky, Natasha, and Sam were less like a team of outcasts and more like a family.

“Don’t bother, Nat, he was a prude even when we were teenagers.”

Steve’s jaw almost hit the floor as Bucky emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, using the cloth Tasha had discarded to wipe away some water that had fallen from his hair onto his chest.

“Oh- did I- should- am- do you-“ he stammered, stumbling over words that refused to form a solid sentence.

Natasha and Bucky were exchanging entertained smirks, which gave Steve an uncomfortably hot blush.

“You should stay,” she suggested casually. “At least until Sam gets home.”

This time it was Steve and Bucky’s turn to give her a wild look. He twisted his hands into the fabric of his pant legs, not quite sure of how to respond. No. She could not seriously be offering…

She gave a little shrug.

“It would probably do you some good. You do still owe me going on a date with Kristen, and I could definitely-“

“Shut up,” Bucky interrupted, shoving her aside to take Steve’s hand.

He bit the inside of his cheek, not quite sure where everything was going at this point. Everyone at SHIELD knew that when Fury said Natasha was comfortable with everything, he really meant _everything_ and the recent expulsion of her files demonstrated she was in some ways he had not been expecting.

“Steve,” Bucky continued. “We’ve been talking it over for a while and… well…”

He stopped short and instead of finishing the sentence, planted a soft kiss right on Steve’s mouth. At first he simply stood still, frozen with shock and disbelief. This was a man. This was his best friend. This was Bucky! He had to blink several times to even get it all through his head.

“Don’t be scared,” he heard Natasha say tenderly and felt her hands rest on his back. “You can always say no.”

Bucky slowly pulled away, giving Steve the opportunity to step out. His head was still in a jumbled mess of unprocessed observations. Something had to be wrong with this, but somehow, nothing felt wrong. Bucky’s full lips, Natasha’s soft hands, it was as if pieces of a puzzle he did not know were missing had fallen into place. Why not? Two people he could honestly say he loved were right in front of him. Granted, he never expected it to be anything more than platonic, but… but what the hell? Though Nat’s face was completely neutral, Bucky’s eyes were almost pleading.

“No. I mean, yes. Okay,” he managed to croak.  

Everything started in a flurry. Natasha quickly removed his clothes with deft fingers that knew their craft while Bucky immediately went for another kiss. He was still gentle, but not at all timid. This time, Steve hesitantly returned it, tangling his fingers in that long, brown, still wet, hair. Tasha acted like a shepherd tending to sheep, moving them from the entrance of the room over to the bed. Every so often Steve would feel her leaning against him or occasionally slip between them long enough to steal a kiss from each. But she predominantly stayed out of the way until he started to relax. The little hints of warning bells were being drowned out by the sensation of skin on skin, entwined fingers, and joined lips. Then she suddenly pulled Steve to her and replaced Bucky’s fond touch with a roaring passion he was not expecting.

Nothing was uncertain at that point. Natasha was a hurricane of experience and void of trepidation. It was all Steve could do to just keep breathing, much less keep up. He reached to grab a handful of sheet, but found Bucky’s metal hand instead and a surge of balance rushed through his whole body between the cold steel and scorching flesh. Then as quickly as she had advanced, Natasha retracted and Steve felt himself back to Bucky.

**_Epilogue_ **

Natasha leaned up against the headboard, quite pleased with herself. Much like the last time she woke up between these two, they were both still asleep. She knew she was the third wheel, the buffer, the odd one out, but that was okay. It was all okay as long as she could look down and see them finally so at peace. It was what the three of them needed, she supposed. At least, that’s what she told herself. Who knew where they would go from here? She certainly didn’t. But that was also okay. She settled back down into the sheets and closed her eyes again. For now, she was content in the fact that unlike the last time she was with Steve and Bucky, it wasn’t lust. It was love. Love that had been bent, torn, shattered, and put back together, but still love.


End file.
